


i will follow you into the dark

by haru (haru_senji)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, might come back to edit this when i'm not feeling like crap, projecting as a coping mechanism, unedited i just die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:33:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haru_senji/pseuds/haru
Summary: Depression is not a good look on Kiyoomi.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	i will follow you into the dark

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'i will follow you into the dark' by miya folick

Depression is not a good look on Kiyoomi. 

It had been going on for months now. With practice, it’s easier to push everything to the back of his mind where it’ll collect dust. (Until one day, when he reaches for it, blows away the dust, and screams at the monster reflected.) It’s easier to focus on spikes and serves and not the demons’ voices in his head.  _ His  _ voice in his head. On weekends, he could read and get swept into another world instead of his own insecurity. He could watch the shows Motoya recommended and watch someone  _ else  _ being perfect. 

He doesn’t like holidays. He doesn’t like holidays like this, during the pandemic, where they can’t go travelling like they usually do. And he has to get left with his own swirling, destructive thoughts. 

He hasn’t been able to read for a while now. He can’t focus, can’t read a paragraph without his thoughts barging through the entrance and digging its claws into his arm. He’d been able to ignore the steady loss of interest in his usual hobbies when there was practice, but now, there’s nothing to do but face the fact that  _ there’s nothing to do. _ When there  _ should  _ be. When he should be enjoying his rest, when he should be happy. He’s not anything he’s supposed to be. 

“Atsumu?”

“Hmm?” 

Atsumu pauses the movie and turns to him. Kiyoomi likes how the light streaming in through the balcony threads through Atsumu’s golden hair. He likes his soft lips and his warm brown eyes. He can feel hot tears bubbling up in the corner of his eyes. 

“Love? What’s wrong?” Atsumu reaches out frantically to touch Kiyoomi’s elbow, only to have the other flinch back. 

“Don’t touch me.” The words thunder through the air like horses’ hooves. You can’t chase back a horse set free. 

Atsumu’s face contorts into a mix of shock and hurt, but he’s quick to change the expression for a more neutral and soft one. He raises his hands and leans back slowly. 

“Okay. Okay. Is... no, there  _ is  _ something wrong. What is it?” 

A minute of silence. Kiyoomi wants to lean forward and kiss away the crease between his brows. He doesn’t. Instead, he asks:

“Why me?” 

“Huh?” 

The water droplets get too heavy for the clouds to hold it. It rains. Kiyoomi’s full on crying now, wiping away the trickling tears with the back of his hands. 

“W-Why me?” he hiccups. “Other than volleyball, other than my spikes and serves and receives, I’m nothing. There’s nothing. Maybe the reason I spike until my hands are swollen is to distract myself from the fact that I’m nothing. Maybe the reason I always have to wipe something and tidy something is to move my attention away from how much of a failure I am.”

Kiyoomi’s spent too much time in his head, and now he’s laying out every ugly thing he’s found. 

“I’m not funny and outgoing. I’m not even remotely pleasant. I wasn’t top of my class in university. I was just there wasting time. I used to be able to manage my time well. I used to relax and have fun. Did you know? I can’t even read now. I can’t enjoy the shows I used to watch, I can’t go cycling, I can’t - I can’t  _ feel  _ anything. It’s  _ scary _ , Atsumu. This isn’t me. This - this is a freak, a lonely, useless, annoying  _ monster _ -”

“Omi -”

“Don’t touch me!” 

It’s Atsumu who flinches now. Kiyoomi stares at him, golden, beautiful him, through the haze blocking his eyes and sniffles. 

“Don’t touch me,” he repeats, softer. “Don’t touch me like that. Don’t touch me so softly, so tenderly; don’t look at me so lovingly, so trustingly. Don’t look at me at all. Don’t touch me at all.” 

His voice trails off, and Atsumu almost misses his last sentences.

“I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

He makes a horrible choking, sobbing sound and tries to smile through the weighs clamping the corners of his mouth. 

“These days, I don’t even know if I deserve to live.” 

For a while, there’s only the pitter-patter of raindrops and the painful thuds of Atsumu’s heart against his ribs. 

“Omi? Can I touch you, please?” 

Kiyoomi shakes his head, drawing his knees closer to his chest and shrinking away. Atsumu knows him. Atsumu knows he can crawl onto his knees and inch closer. 

“Please?” He moves closer on his hands and knees, and slowly, slowly brings Kiyoomi’s soft curly hair to his chest. 

He can feel the tremors in the raven’s body, the violent, quiet way Kiyoomi always cries. Atsumu runs his fingers through his hair, traces his brows, wipes his cheeks. He holds Kiyoomi’s hands. Kiyoomi wrenches them away, but carefully, Atsumu takes them back in his. 

“Omi,” Atsumu breathes into the tangled curls. Kiyoomi forgot to brush his hair today morning. Atsumu should’ve realised something was wrong then. 

“Omi, do you think an evil, horrible monster, ya know, the kind with red eyes and big horns, would coo at a dog on the road and get it to follow him?” 

Kiyoomi’s so taken aback by the question he stops crying. 

“Huh?” 

“Shh.” Atsumu plants a fluttering kiss on his nose. “Just answer.” 

“No… no, I don’t think it would.”

Atsumu runs his thumb over the veins on the back of Kiyoomi’s hands. “Mmm, you’re right. I don’t think it would, either.” 

It’s thirty seconds of Atsumu playing with Kiyoomi’s hands, caressing the space between his fingers, before he speaks again. 

“Omi, did you know, whenever you say something sarcastic, I find it really hard to not laugh at the person on the receiving end. Even when it’s me, I still feel like laughing. You’re really funny, you know? Just, not in the way most people would accept.” 

He takes Kiyoomi’s face in his hands and looks into the dark black eyes he’s still lost in. 

“I think we both know I’m not like most people.”

A comforting smile later, Atsumu’s hands travel to his hair. “You know, Omi, I don’t think you have to be  _ good  _ at your hobby. You’re always so hung up on being good. I don’t think you’ve noticed that. It’s like an obligation to you, a default setting. I think you should override the programme! Whaddya say? Should I hack into you?” 

Kiyoomi snorts despite himself. “You’re not getting any better with metaphors, are you?” 

Atsumu beams with all the light from the sun hidden behind the clouds. “Nope! But you still love me.” 

Kiyoomi melts into Atsumu’s hold. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. So much you don’t even know.” 

Atsumu huffs. “If it’s as much as  _ I _ love you, then I know! Hey, one more fact, did you know I love it when you water the plants? You always run your fingertips down the leaves like you’re caressing them. It makes my morning a thousand times happier. And also! I can find me everywhere in your life. When you make coffee, you make mine too. There’s that keychain I got you when I was in Hyogo for the holidays on your backpack.”

Kiyoomi’s starting to nod off now, body and mind spent from all the weight they’re holding by themselves. Atsumu presses his cheek on the top of Kiyoomi’s head. 

“I’m in love with you, you know,” he whispers. “I don’t exactly know when it happened. But when you sneered at me, I felt butterflies instead of hate. Funny, huh? You’re like that favourite mug of mine I dropped when I was seven. I still love every broken shard.”

Kiyoomi’s breathing evens out. There’s still a few tears hanging off his eyelashes. 

“We'll get through this,” Atsumu promises. “Together.  _ We.  _ Me and you. You’re not alone.” 

And to Kiyoomi, that means ‘I love you’. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/haru_senji)


End file.
